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“What are you writing?”
“Did you catch the first letter?” he asks instead of answering me.
“M.” I confirm with a nod.
“Good, spell along.”
“I.”
“N.”
“E.”
I repeat each letter as he paints them onto my skin.
&n
bsp; “Mine?”
“I want you to be,” he says.
“Me, too,” I admit and then push back the sadness I told myself I wouldn’t acknowledge until after he was gone. “I know summer’s going to end and you’re going to leave… but maybe we can pretend?”
“I want to do more than pretend, Kal.”
My heart thumps in my chest at the serious expression in his eyes and at the heat behind it.
I nod.
“Okay,” I say and when he starts to lower his head to kiss me, I raise my face to meet him halfway. When our lips touch a moan passes my lips right before his tongue sweeps inside my mouth. I’ll never get used to how delicious he is.
His tongue swipes against mine and I taste the apples we ate after dinner. I grasp his face in my hands and hold on for dear life while I let his kiss brand me.
He peppers kisses on my face, on the lids of my eyes, down the bridge of my nose, and then his hands slide under the straps of my dress and he yanks it down.
“Damn, Kal,” he groans when he finds me bare underneath it. He rubs the firm, but soft pad of his thumbs over my nipples while he kisses me again. In a few seconds, they’re as hard as thumbtacks and I’m coming out of my skin.
“Please kiss them,” I pant. I’ve never asked a boy to do anything to me, but I’ve never known a boy like Remi. And since he showed me how good everything can feel, my body is so hungry I can’t take it.
The urgency of the night drives our hands and mouths to seek, touch, taste. I spent most of my summer pining for him and I could kick myself for keeping my distance. Because what wouldn’t I give to have had that first month full of touches like this.
His breathing is ragged and his chest heaves against mine when he breaks the kiss and flips us over on the pile of blankets he’s laid in the truck’s bed. He’s been treating me like this since I met him. I don’t even know how I’ll go back to my everyday life after this.
I push these thoughts away and focus on the way his heart is thundering against mine.
And just when I think I’ll die wanting his mouth, he gives me what I want. His first touch is a reverent swipe of his tongue on the edge of my breasts and I writhe, grasp his head, and try to pull him to my already pulsing nipple.
He chuckles
“Easy, beautiful. We have all night. I want this to be good for you,” he says and then brushes his lips over the throbbing peak of my breast.
“Then do something,” I pant.
His laugh blows hot breath on my feverish skin and I whimper when his tongue’s raspy texture runs over me.
He closes his mouth over my nipple.
“Remi. Yes. Oh my,” I cry as a storm starts to build fast inside me.
